Dinner at the Wicked Vicar
by Pandora Culpa
Summary: A follow up to 'Alexandrite'. Tonks takes Remus out to dinner to thank him for her gift, but the evening may be more than he bargained for.


"Tonks, honestly, it's not necessary."

As it had all afternoon, the protest fell on deaf ears as she happily steered Remus through the hall of 12 Grimmauld Place and out the door into the chilly evening air. "Of course it is!" She patted him on the arm in what he supposed was meant to be a reassuring manner, but he felt anything but reassured when he saw their intended destination.

"You're not planning on driving that?" he blurted out before he could refine his reaction into something more tactful, but the decrepit green car sagging by the kerb had ignited something within him that was a little less than fear, but more than mere trepidation. Tonks rolled her eyes, assuming a much put-upon expression.

"Of _course_ I am, silly! There aren't any decent restaurants in this part of town; I want to take you somewhere _nice_ to thank you for my present." One of her hands rose automatically to touch the small copper pin on the lapel of her jacket. The gesture warmed him- it did every time, no matter how many times he had seen her do it- but he lifted his brows incredulously at her pronouncement.

"No good…? What about Armand's, or the Red House, or The Taproot?"

"The Taproot? Honestly, Remus! That place is a dive! And the other two we've been to a million times. Two million- I wanted this to be special! Besides, those places only attract wizards and witches, and I thought we'd go Muggle tonight."

Eying the battered sedan warily, Remus said, "Hence the car; is that it?"

Grinning brightly, Tonks produced a set of keys with a fob shaped like a Snitch, its tiny wings battering vainly at her hand. "Exactly! We can't go Apparating in and scaring the locals… Anyway, why else do you think that I asked you to wear Muggle clothes tonight?" Sidling up to the door of the car, she unlocked it and plopped into the driver's seat, leaning across to open the lock for Remus. "C'mon!"

He hesitated. Muggle technology was somewhat interesting to him, but it was never a subject that he had chosen to study too closely. Due to both his lycanthropy and personal inclination, he had always known that the wizarding world was where he belonged and the thought of mixing with this degree of Muggle ingenuity was daunting. Added to that was the realization that as much as he liked, respected, and even secretly fancied Tonks, he really, _really_ didn't want to get into any car- _especially_ this one- that she might be driving.

However, she was waiting for him, staring up at him with eyes that today were an unnaturally deep shade of blue, and as she quirked a smile he felt the corners of his mouth lift in response. He _did_ want to spend the evening with her, and perhaps the ride wouldn't be too harrowing. With a soft, resigned sigh, he climbed into the car, debating for a moment as to whether the buckles would impede an emergency Apparition should it become necessary, before letting the belt lock with a loud click.

Seeing him safely strapped in, Tonks buckled her own belt and thrust the key into the ignition, and with a gasp the old car shuddered to life. Remus looked around for something to grab as the old auto lurched forward and onto the road in a billow of smoke. With the window vibrating madly by his ear, Remus took a firm hold of the dashboard and turned to Tonks with what he hoped would be construed as an enthusiastic grin. "So, where were you planning on taking us?" he asked, gritting his teeth as the car heaved and hiccoughed down the winding road.

She was nearly bouncing with poorly repressed excitement. "You'll see!" she enthused, slinging the car around a turn and nearly tossing Remus, seatbelt and all, into her lap. "You're going to love it!"

He nodded in agreement, afraid to open his mouth again. At that moment he thought he would love anywhere that she took them, if it would only get them out of that car.

Some time later, Remus found himself on shaky legs outside of a small, seedy looking restaurant. Tonks had her arm threaded firmly through his own, and was half-supporting as well as steering him toward the door and, he fervently hoped, a stiff drink. The drive to dinner had been as nerve-shattering as he'd originally anticipated; the sickly vehicle, compounded with Tonks' erratic driving abilities (he refused to call them 'skills'), made the journey not so much a brief passage across space as a multi-dimensional crusade of terror. He was extremely grateful that he hadn't unmanned himself by screaming, but he still remained certain that they had somehow managed to drive straight _through_ a roundabout.

"This is it!" Tonks gushed, gesturing broadly at the dingy-looking restaurant. "The Wicked Vicar! The best place for live Muggle music around!" She wasted no time in dragging him forward as the door opened to allow a couple of patrons to leave, the sounds of a guitar wafting out with them

Feeling a little woozy, he shook his head and allowed her to lead the way in. He had to blink several times as they entered before his eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior, but once he could see clearly he was pleasantly surprised. Despite the run-down exterior, the restaurant had a cozy, tidy atmosphere to which he took an instant liking; small tables dotted the little room, and a few booths lined one wall to their right. To their immediate left was a bar, and in the far corner was a tiny raised platform, upon which a man was playing a guitar and singing. Tonks was already making a beeline for a table that was close to the little stage, but positioned far enough from the man's amplifier that they would still be able to converse without bellowing.

As Tonks was about to sit, Remus put his hand on his shoulder to stop her. "Allow me," he said, pulling Tonks' chair out for her, and she rewarded him with a bright smile.

"You are such a gentleman. I don't believe that I've ever had a date do that for me before."

Remus almost stumbled as he seated himself in his chair. "You haven't?" he asked in genuine surprise, although his mind was caught on something else. _Does she mean that she is considering this a date?_

Tonks was still smiling slightly as she motioned a waitress over to their table. "Nope," she said. "Most of the men I have dated have been Muggles, and I don't think that chivalry is all that much of a virtue to them anymore. I guess that they figure it's wasted on today's modern, liberated females."

He chuckled. "Their loss, then. I will continue to waste my virtue on attractive ladies, that the Modern Muggles may be spared the onerous duty."

She laughed gaily, and he felt his heart do a funny little sideways leap. Lately she had been causing those distractions- smiling, laughing, and other such things that made him feel as though her world was centered on him for a moment- that would cause his stomach to jump about or his spine to melt. He had never felt these things from any other crushes that he'd had in school or even after, and only strict control when they occurred had kept him from acting like a silly schoolboy and exposing his feelings to her. What were the chances, after all, that a young, pretty witch like Tonks would be attracted to an old, run-down werewolf? Not that he was all that old, honesty prompted him to note, but he was certainly older than her by a considerable number of years.

That fact didn't seem to be bothering her unduly at the moment; she was studying him with those brilliant eyes again, and he was a little relieved when a waitress finally arrived with menus and glasses of water. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, studying the menus and placing their orders, but when the waitress had cleared away all the intervening clutter and Tonks' gaze came to rest upon him again, he couldn't help but wonder more at her comment about the date. If they were indeed on a date, they were an extremely mismatched couple. The incongruity of their appearance together was obvious to him; she was looking young and hip in a black camisole, fatigue pants, her usual heavy boots and leather jacket, with a hot pink hairdo. By contrast, he had chosen trousers, a button-down shirt, and a tweed jacket that, along with his silvered hair, perhaps made him look somewhat respectable- like a professor, he thought wryly- but _not_ fashionable.

Glancing about, he realized that nearly the entire crowd at the restaurant was much younger than himself, with most of the patrons looking very similar to Tonks in dress. Similar in coloring as well, he noted, glimpsing a tall man with a neon green mohawk at the bar. Amid the flush of youth patronizing the Vicar, Remus felt old and out-of-place, and he sank lower in his chair as though trying to escape notice.

_I don't fit in here,_ he thought morosely. _This place is for young people, not a duffer like myself. Sirius would be at home here, but then, where is Sirius not at home? Besides, he doesn't look like a man twice his actual age- my word, what must everyone here think of Tonks and me together?_

"What's wrong, Remus?" Tonks' voice snapped him out of his mental self-deprecation, and he glanced up at her guiltily.

"N-nothing," he stammered, and she shook her head.

"Lighten up, Moony. Tonight is supposed to be fun. I know that you don't really like going out very much, but won't you give it a try for me?" She gave him a mischievous wink. "If you don't relax, I'll make you dance with me!"

He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. "You? Dance?"

She shrugged lightly. "I've been known to. When I have a good partner, at least. Care to take me on?"

"Is that a challenge?"

Tonks rolled her eyes coquettishly at the ceiling. "Maaaybe," she drawled, and the last of Remus' self-conscious concerns faded as her game plucked at his Marauder sensibilities.

Leaning forward, he winked conspiratorially at her and smirked, "You know, I don't much care to lose."

Her returning smile was predatory. "That's exactly what I was hoping."

Remus was spared a reply to that remark as the waitress returned with their drinks, and he pondered Tonks' sudden shift in attitude as he sipped his scotch. She was watching the guitarist play, tapping her toe against the leg of the table and mouthing the words along with him at the chorus. He wondered if her abrupt assertive attitude was due to being in what was obviously a place where she was more comfortable, or if she had something else on her mind. Had it been anyone else, he would have been positive that he was being hit on… but this was _Tonks_. His best friend's cousin, and the last person in the world that he could imagine making advances toward him.

Not that he minded too much, only he knew that he could never act on it. Her attention had returned to him, a warm, somewhat giddy expression on her face and her eyes sparkling, and he was forced to admit that the temptation to toss propriety aside had never been stronger than it was now. She leaned across the table toward him, exposing a fair amount of bosom as she did so. "Isn't the music smashing?" she asked him, nodding toward the stage.

Despite that his attention had been on anything but the music since they had entered the restaurant, Remus agreed that it was, and she wriggled delightedly in her seat.

"I wasn't sure about bringing you here. I know that you love music, but I was a little worried that you'd feel like The Vicar wasn't your kind of place."

Remus shrugged lightly, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, it isn't the type of place I would normally frequent, I suppose. But I'm having a good time tonight."

Tonks' face immediately assumed an expression of relief. "Good! I wouldn't want to scare you off."

He chuckled a little. "Oh, I don't scare _that_ easily," he told her, and was a bit startled by the very direct stare that he received back.

"I'm glad to hear that," Tonks said, her eyes glinting with some untold secret.

The guitarist on the stage announced his final number, a song that was apparently very popular with the crowd at The Vicar; a localized roar sounded from the vicinity of the bar, and the ensuing noise of the crowd and the boisterous music eliminated the possibility of conversation for a few minutes. Remus sipped his drink, trying not to wince at the loud, inaccurate riffs that the guitarist was pounding out, and before the end of the song the waitress was back, bearing their dinner. Once again, the appearance of the restaurant belied the quality of the food; the steak that was placed before him nearly covered the plate, only giving grudging way to the peas and potatoes that were crowding around its edges. A large basket of bread was placed on the table between them, and Tonks grabbed a thick slice with a grin.

"Fresh from the oven, Remus, and as good as any house elf's cooking. Better than some I've tasted, actually; try it!"

Once again, she proved to be correct, and he complimented her on her choice of venue. "I would hardly have expected this to be such a pleasant place," he said, which made her beam as though she had been offered a Firebolt.

The entire meal was delicious, and the act that followed the loud musician was a young man with an acoustic guitar, playing music much more to Remus' taste, and he began to relax once more and take pleasure in the night. Evenings out such as this were true luxuries to him, as he could rarely afford more than he needed to subsist upon, and Remus found himself trying to soak in everything he could so that he might remember the feeling later, when times were lean again.

Eventually though, he began to feel a little guilty about enjoying the experience on her coin. As she was mopping the last of the gravy off her plate with a heel of bread, he cleared his throat quietly.

"I'd like to help out with the cost of the dinner," he said, and Tonks dropped her bread, knocking over her glass of water so that it cascaded over the edge of the table and pooled on the floor.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," she babbled at the waitress, as the woman rushed over to clean up the mess. "Oh _bother_, I always do this. Can I help you?" she asked, nearly knocking the glass over again as the other woman set it back on the table.

"Just sit still, dearie," the waitress said in a tired voice. "I've got it handled."

"I'm sorry." She then turned her attention back to Remus. "And what's this about helping pay for dinner?"

"I don't feel right about letting you pay for this. I want to contribute something." Remus reached into his jacket pocket, feeling a small pouch that served as his wallet. Pulling it out, he felt the light weight of the meager few Sickles and Knuts, and hoped that he had enough.

A frown deepening on her face, Tonks waved the bag away. "Put it up, please. _I'm_ taking _you_ out tonight, remember? On me; that means I pay. For all of it."

"But this meal had to cost a lot. I couldn't possibly…"

"Yes, you will! Here, luv," Tonks said distractedly, passing the rising waitress a small card. "Take twenty five percent, won't you?" The waitress nodded, brightening, and Tonks pointed a finger at him as she hurried off to the bar. "This isn't negotiable, Lupin. Besides, I'll bet that you don't even have any Muggle currency."

Remus sat back in his chair. "You have a point. But at least let me give _you_ what I have, in repayment."

She tossed her head, eyes flashing. "Keep your money, Remus."

The waitress returned, giving Tonks a slip of paper and the card, and took the empty plates away, ignoring the stare-off that was in progress. Finally Remus chuckled, dropping his head to concede defeat.

"All right," he said. "But you have to let me return the favor somehow."

She cocked her head to the side, her face glowing as she made a moue. "Oh, now I think that something could be arranged there."

There it was again. That same intensity that he had noted earlier in the evening. Tonks' chin was lifted in a challenging fashion, but the look in her eyes was completely inviting, almost alluring… Before he could stop himself, the question had left his lips.

"Tonks? Are you flirting with me?"

There was the briefest flash of what he thought might have been irritation in her eyes before she leaned back in her chair, one finger tapping her lips contemplatively.

"You know, I think that I am…for like that last month or two! Have you only just noticed?" She paused, her hand covering her mouth, and suddenly her eyes seemed very big and solemn. "I guess that I haven't done a very good job of it…"

Remus opened his mouth to reassure her that she had indeed done a good job of flirting with him, realized how idiotic it would sound, and instead said, "I had noticed that you were paying more attention to me recently, but I wouldn't assume…" He let the statement hang delicately, but Tonks frowned.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Feeling a small pang inside him, he answered slowly, "Because I am so much older than you; I'm almost the age of your mother. And I'm a Dark creature besides." The words wrenched at him as they came out; they damned the remnants of his fantasy once spoken aloud. The truth lay between them now, he was the monster of stories told to scare children; he was too old, too late. Remus dropped his eyes to the table, not wanting to encourage her with the regret he knew was filling them. It simply couldn't be.

"Is that all?" Tonks sounded almost amused. "Moony, why should that be any kind of issue? We're both adults, we're friends, and neither of us are babes in the woods. No one is taking advantage of the other; I don't see a problem here. Unless," here her voice faltered slightly, "you just don't _like_ me…"

He had to look back up at her then. Her face had the fortified expression of someone waiting for a disaster to be confirmed, and he reached out to take her hand, which was clutching her napkin in a white-knuckled grip. "Now Tonks," he began gently, and her face fell.

"I knew it!" she wailed, loud enough that several other couples seated nearby glanced their way in surprise. "I'm too clumsy and loud, and just plain _daft_…I've tried, I've really tried to be more serious!" Remus was alternately trying to put on a reassuring face to the growing stares and making frantic shushing motions to Tonks, whose eyes were clenched tightly shut as she continued at the same volume. "And now I'm dragging you out and you probably don't ever want to _be_ here...!"

"_Nymphadora!_" he hissed urgently, and her eyes snapped open to glare at him. The angry look quickly changed to shock as she saw most of the restaurant staring at her, and a ragged stain of red began spreading across her cheeks as she gaped at her audience.

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Remus brought her attention back to him. "First of all, don't ever change yourself. Not for me, not for anyone. Tonks, I like you very much just as you are. I wish that I could allow myself to court you. But it wouldn't be appropriate for a man of my age to take advantage of a lovely young woman's passing interest." He glanced about cautiously, making sure that the other patrons had lost interest in their conversation before continuing. "My dear, you'd find that people generally don't look too kindly upon a relationship between a tired old man and a pretty young woman, and my being a werewolf would only compound this. If people didn't perceive you as my victim then they would likely regard you as being into bestiality, or some other such perversion. I won't do that to you, Tonks."

Still blushing faintly, she frowned at him again but made no attempt to pull her hand from his. "I don't really care what other people think; I never have."

"But I would care very much if I heard anyone slandering you, especially if it was because of me. You deserve someone who is good for you, someone who can keep up with you. Not an old wolf like myself."

She sniffed. "You're not all that old. The way you talk, it's as though you see yourself as ancient, which is ridiculous, and me as a child- and I am _not_ a child. But while we're on the topic… How old are you?"

He had been expecting that question. "I'm thirty-seven."

She nodded as though she had already known. "Fine. I'm twenty-four, so there is a thirteen year gap in our ages."

"Correct. Almost a generation apart."

She nodded again. "Fair enough. Remus, how old is Dumbledore?"

He blinked at the question. "About one hundred and fifty, I believe, though I wouldn't be so bold as to ask him."

"Is he the oldest wizard you know of?"

"No, I don't believe that he is. Would you care to let me in on where this is going?"

"Wizards and witches live a very long time. Remus, how much is thirteen years going to matter when you are eighty-seven, and I'm seventy-four? Or when you are one hundred and seventeen, and I'm a mere one hundred and four? Is that gap going to mean nearly so much then?"

For a moment Remus could only stare at her, dumbfounded. Tonks was leaning back in her chair, her attitude one of having scored a major blow; there was definitely a hint of victory in the curve of her lips. Always concerned about making it from day to day, he had honestly never considered a relationship over such a long term, especially when any romantic relationship seemed unobtainable. And she was speaking as though she actually expected to be around that long…he could only shake his head in bemusement. What would Sirius say when he got home to tell him about this…

That thought sobered Remus very quickly. What _would_ Sirius say? How would he feel about his cousin hitting on an older man, even if that man were a friend of his? He couldn't imagine that Sirius would be too pleased about it, despite knowing that Remus was an honorable man. He abruptly resolved to not so much as mention this dinner with Tonks in 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Well?" Tonks' query startled him; he had forgotten completely that a question had been posed.

"I- ah… No, I suppose that it wouldn't." Silently, he pleaded with her, _please, don't pursue this. Don't pursue me, because I can't let you catch me. Please, don't tempt me to do what I know I shouldn't._

The light was beginning to fade a bit from her eyes. "And I guess that it still doesn't make a difference to you?" she asked quietly, slipping her hand from his grip. The absence ached, and he closed his hand to try and hold the warmth of her skin a few moments longer.

"It does, but it doesn't change things. I can't, Tonks. It wouldn't be right."

She closed her eyes, shutting him out as she bit her lower lip, and Remus let his gaze wander miserably over the restaurant. This was the last thing that he had wanted to do to her. Their evening had been so enjoyable up to this point, and it hurt him very much to ruin what ought to have been a happy memory for both of them. The pain of knowing that she did indeed care for him was one that he put aside for later; that exquisite loss would be savored elsewhere, when he was alone and had leisure to drop any pretense of dignity.

Finally Tonks opened her eyes again, and flashed him an entirely unexpected, radiant smile. "Okay, Remus. If that's what you want." She lifted her drink to sip at it, the fingers of her other hand tapping idly on the table in time with the music.

Instant suspicion flashed through him. He debated the merits of letting the matter lie against learning the reason for her sudden and uncharacteristic capitulation, and finally concluded that under the circumstances, he would not sleep until he understood what had just gone on in her mind. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he asked, "Are you all right with this? You're a dear friend, and I don't want to lose you as such."

She sat her drink down with an exaggerated sigh. "That's the point, Remus. You're _not_ going to lose me. Not over this, not over your age, not over the fact that you turn into a bloodthirsty monster when it's your time of the month. So do I; who am I to criticize?" Remus had been drinking his scotch, and nearly choked at her crude frankness; she waited patiently for him to recover before continuing. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm not going anywhere, and one day thirteen years won't look like so much. Maybe even sooner than you think. Besides," she added with a not-so-serious mien, "I don't plan to stop trying to change your mind."

Despite his reservations, her good humor was infectious and he found himself smiling once again. "You are truly incorrigible; you know that, don't you?"

She was rising from her chair as he spoke. "Mmhmm. C'mon, get your arse up, old man. I want to dance tonight."

"Wait," he protested weakly as she hauled him to his feet. "I thought that we settled that before we ate!"

"Yeah, well, you got too serious, so you forfeited."

"Tonks," Remus said as he found himself coming to the realization that there was no room at all in the restaurant in which to dance, although Tonks obviously had a plan in mind. "Where are we going now?" he shouted as the next band, far louder than the last musician, launched into its first number.

She was steering him purposefully through the growing crowd, and glanced back over her shoulder to give him a conspiratorial wink. "Outside," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the door for emphasis. Remus stopped short, causing her to stumble sideways into a man just stepping up to the bar. She mumbled apologies, shooting Remus a furious glare, then stepped close to him so that she could hiss in his ear, "What?"

His expression was faintly disapproving. "We can't leave here without paying," he insisted. "I told you that I would pay…"

Was she laughing at him? Feeling somewhat affronted, Remus watched as she pulled a small grey card from her pocket; he recognized it as the card that she had passed to the waitress. When she handed it to him he took a moment studying it; it seemed rather unremarkable, unattractive, and completely unconnected to the matter at hand. He looked up at Tonks, puzzled, and she pointed back at the card.

"Muggle magic- it's a credit card. I paid for dinner already; I did it while we were discussing who was going to take care of the bill. I even gave the waitress a whopping good tip. Which means we are free to go and dance whenever we want to- which is now." She took a new grip on his arm and began hauling him through the restaurant once more.

The evening was cool and crisp when they emerged, and Remus took a deep grateful breath, realizing how confining the small restaurant had been now that he was in the open air once more. Turning to Tonks with a wary smile, he asked, "So, where were we going to dance then?"

She was looking up into the sky; Remus followed her gaze to the waxing moon hanging over the city. He tensed, but when Tonks' gaze returned to him it was suffused with happiness. Sidling up to him, she snaked her arms around him unexpectedly and grinned at his discomfort. "How about right here?" she asked him, as she began pulling him down the pavement. He laughed aloud, capitulating at last to her desires, and they waltzed awkwardly down the street to where Tonks had parked the car. They were both laughing by the time they reached the green saloon, and Remus had to lean against the fender to catch his breath while Tonks dug in her pockets for the keys.

Finally fishing them out, she gave him a sideways glance before mumbling, "Well, I guess you'll want to Apparate from here, rather than risk the car ride back. I had a really great time tonight. Thanks for being a sport about it." She turned away quickly, unlocking the car door.

He looked up at her; she was blushing slightly and scuffing one boot heel nervously across the pavement while she worried the chain of her keyring. "I had a good time too," he told her earnestly. "We ought to do it again some time."

She looked up at him sharply. "You mean that?" she asked him in a voice of disbelief. "After everything…"

Remus leaned over and snagged her by the elbow, pulling her close so that he could enfold her in a hug. "Just because I said that I wasn't going to get into a romantic relationship with you doesn't mean that I don't want you in my life. I do. You're smart, funny, and a real breath of fresh air, and I enjoy the time that we spend together very much. So please," he said, releasing her finally, "won't you unlock my door so the poor old werewolf doesn't have to find his own way home?"

Tonks' face was almost comic as she stepped back from him, relief and exhilaration vying with several other emotions for precedence on her face. "Of course!" she squeaked, yanking her own door open and diving across the seat for his doorlock. Unlocking it, she pushed it open, nearly falling through in her excitement. "All right, Moony?"

Remus chuckled, at himself as much at her, while he walked around to the passenger side of the car. Only Tonks ever got him into these situations these days, but he was always letting her; somehow it was hard to resist any opportunity to be around her. He buckled the strap, forcing himself not to wince when she cranked the shuddering engine to life. It wasn't that hard, really, to be braver than he actually was when she was around; after all, look at what she had faced for him- the werewolf! She flashed a quick smile at him, letting the car warm up while she fumbled again for something in her coat, and Remus felt a surge of warmth shoot through him.

"Here we are!" said Tonks triumphantly, holding up her wand. "I thought that this might make the ride home a little more pleasant. _Home_ _James!_" she cried, tapping the wand twice on the steering wheel. The car coughed, and then sedately pulled away from the kerb and began trundling up the street at a modest pace. Tonks laughed at his surprise, leaning over to snuggle against his shoulder, and he automatically put his arms around her. "Much nicer indeed," she murmured, and he silently agreed.

Long before the old car had reached 12 Grimmauld Place, Tonks fell asleep on his chest and Remus couldn't remember when he had been more content to just sit still, watching the scenery pass by. During the ride he allowed himself to imagine, just for this once, that he could allow himself to fall for her and perhaps that she might truly love him too. He enjoyed the fantasy as the car wound its way through the narrow streets, and was disappointed when they finally reached their destination and the old auto shut itself off with a loud backfire that woke her.

Tonks sat up, her face still wearing a mask of sleep, "What th- oh, hell. We're home already, and I slept the whole way." She yawned mightily, stretching like a cat in her seat, and then caught him watching her. With a shy smile, she said, "Some company I was, eh, Moony?"

He returned the smile with sincerity. "I couldn't imagine a better companion."

Her smile widened, and for a moment his resolution was tested. Her absurd bubblegum pink hair was standing up in elflocks, and her eyes almost seemed to glow under the streetlights as she climbed out of the car, nearly tripping as she did so and grumbling about her foot having gone to sleep. She was so unconventional, so unlike himself, and yet… he couldn't really imagine life without her any longer. Tonks and her eccentric style, all thumbs and elbows and whirlwind clumsiness, was as much a fixture in his life now as the bitter taste of the Wolfsbane Potion, or the thinning patches in his robes. She was like life itself to him, colorful, exuberant and unpredictable. _Perhaps,_ he mused, _thirteen years isn't so much, after all._

He was still staring at her, and she was now waiting for him on the pavement, her face bright and happy in the moonlight. With a slight smile, and only a little pang in his heart, he hurried to join her.


End file.
